This Is Insanity
by Dieformygoddamnship
Summary: Kyle Broflovski gets himself into deep trouble when Eric Cartman offers to help make his best friend, Stan, fall in love with him. And he should know better, because he has known Cartman for too long not to realise deals with him are going to backfire. Badly. Style.


**This Is Insanity**

**Prologue: Already Sold**

_You know your life is fucked when the only person you can turn to is Eric Cartman. _

Well, Kyle Broflovski knew his life was fucked up when he realised the only reason he had not just skipped town was the idea of kissing his super best friend, the Cartman thing was just icing on the cake.

The two of them have been tied together for a long time. Neither of them will ever admit it, but the truth of it all is that similar problems call for similarly broken people and they both loathed that it had to be the other.

But it really was their only option, especially because if they were going to pine after people they could never have they may as well have some company. As well as another fountain of severely screwed up ideas a.k.a. Cartman, and if there is anything I really needed it was some Cartman-esque 'Mr and Mrs Tenorman Chilli' ideas.

That is exactly what we were doing on my sixteenth birthday, hanging out in my bedroom playing video games and verbally sparring. The latter degenerated into "Fat tits", "Jew", "Fatass", "Jew" as we concentrated on killing the newest swarm of the undead.

I made some crack about it being better than fighting an actual zombie horde and Cartman shot me a glare.

"Yeah, I know Ken hasn't come back yet and I know you've gone all 'true love' on his arse. He's probably getting high with Damien, you know what they're like." I answered his unsaid accusation, picking on the overprotectiveness that he had started to show around the immortal. Nowadays there were four people Cartman looked out for: Kenny McCormick, Wendy Testaburger, Liane Cartman and himself. Significantly higher than six years ago I have to admit.

He was just upset because the blonde had not returned and the most recent South Park zombie horde was two weeks beforehand. Kenny had been slaughtered by a drunken parent, despite the fact he was not actually a zombie that time.

Cartman growled in the back of his throat, "Stop bullshitting, Jew, he's my best friend."

It was pretty true. Stan and I were best friends and Kenny and Cartman had become similarly attached to each other. Butters Stotch, who tended to stick with our group, much to the brunettes annoyance, had also practically sown himself to Kenny and Wendy's best friend, Bebe Stevens, had taken 'big sister duties' upon herself when it came to the slighter, more fragile of the two blondes, though Kenny insisted he had no intention of dragging naïve little Butters into anything.

Our group that had originated with four of us – Stan, Ken, Cartman and I – now consisted of eighteen of us. All of which were turning up for my birthday party in the evening ("Hehe, you're having your Sweet Sixteenth!" Kenny had been literally singing for weeks, but he had been laughing since Stan turned sixteen back in October). Usually I would have been spending the day with Stan but he had 'stuff' to do until one thirty unless Wendy let him off his leash early, which I doubted. Thus I was amusing myself by fighting zombies with Cartman who, scarily enough, actually _did _understand what I was going through. To a point.

"Sure, sure."

"Hey I'm not the one who wants to pound his 'super best friend's' arse." He cackled.

I did not even grace that with a response.

"Oh, sorry sweetie, how could I forget that _you're the_ one who likes his arse pounded, aren't you?"

"Oh god," I would have face palmed except I could not let go of the controller until the wave of zombies were no longer and had been returned to the properly-dead, "You really went there? At least I am not the one head of heels for the quarterback's girlfriend."

"She is not just Stan fucking Marsh's girlfriend!" Cartman snarled; his character in the game joining the zombies as he got worked up and momentarily stopped mashing buttons. He swore and chucked his controller across the room.

I flinched but it landed on my bedspread without any damage done.

Rolling my eyes I answered, letting my character die too, "You're right, fatarse. She's also an insufferable, manipulative bitch."

"And you're just jealous, arsehole, because she has a pussy so you can't beat her. It's not like you're ever getting laid any other way, besides."

I sighed, "I might be a tad biased, yeah. But I am trying to be the bigger person, Cartman, because it is my birthday and I do not want to be miserable, but you are making this difficult. And there really isn't any way you can talk on the sexually frustrated front. Lola and Consuela wouldn't put out for you."

"Consuela would," Cartman muttered.

"You know what? Get out of my house. This was a bad idea. I'm just going to deal with lovesick Stan today, which is a million times better than dealing with you." He knew I was lying. But a day with anyone else or even by myself would trump any time spent with Cartman.

The brunette tilted his head at me, "Eh, not like I give a crap Jewfag, have fun moping. I was going to give you your present but I guess you're not interested."

"I'm really not," I half-glared.

Cartman gave me a winning grin, "Not even if it let you have your fuck buddy all to yourself?"

I was going to ask what was in it for him but that was pretty ridiculous. Wendy Testaburger, my best friend's intelligent, beautiful, sophisticated girlfriend. And I was right because she was an insufferable, manipulative bitch, which made her the perfect match for Eric Cartman. I had a spent a pretty large amount of my time lately wondering if – a serious emphasis on _if_ – the two got together they would take over the world or mellow each other out. Part of me really wanted to see that, the other part was so freaked out at the thought it insisted on therapy.

I sighed, _way to lose your fucking morals Kyle Broflovski, your mother would die of happiness if she wasn't already dead._

"Despite the fact that he is not and will never be my 'fuck buddy', I'm listening." _As long as it doesn't involve a boy band, we are getting too old for that crap._

"Ready to sell your soul to the devil, Jew?"

* * *

**A/N: So I have one more chapter done and after that I am not really sure where I am going with this... but I am actually working on it.**

**Review? I'd love to hear your thoughts on the Prologue and anything else. ^.^**

**- Eli**


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